


Nutmeg

by Casity



Category: Batman - Fandom, Red Hood and the Outlaws
Genre: Brotherly Love, Nutmeg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 08:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15859923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casity/pseuds/Casity
Summary: Jason shadows Damian, hates on Dick, and rediscovers nutmeg. I'm sick, my chest is about to cave in. Enjoy.PS: don't be leaving towels layin’ around.





	Nutmeg

Jason Todd had spent the night patrolling with Damian Wayne. It had been one of those accidental team-ups. They’d encountered each other, had a small chat, and then wordlessly worked side-by side. The only full conversation they’d had was after a close call with nutmeg.

Yes, nutmeg.

Two idiot kids had apparently overdosed in a sad attempt to get high. They’d not realized the waiting period for the spice to work it’s magic, so had continued taking spoonful after spoonful. Poor idiots were in for a rough night, and as the ambulance drove away Robin sarcastically questioned: “We’re those imbeciles serious? Nutmeg?”

“Well, not everyone has their drug dealer on speed dial.”

Robin had glared. 

“You shouldn’t judge, drugs are expensive. We don’t all have your money.”

“This is absurd!”

“Shit, if you’re so fucking angry about it, donate some tennis shoes so they can at least chase a runners high!”

At that point the masked thirteen-year-old decided to bite back. “Of course it’s only natural for you to be an expert in this area.”

“Why, thank you.”

Robin had left at that point, but Red Hood followed. They helped assist in a fire evacuation, gotten fruit smoothies, and lounged about at various hotspots with little action. Around 4 AM Damian called it a night, but mentioned that Bruce had a case he’d wanted Jason’s attention on.

“Why hasn’t he asked me then?”

“It’s not my responsibility to navigate your and fathers relationship.”

So, once again, Jason had followed Damian. They hit the showers first thing, and upon entering the locker room found an oddity: a wet towel on the floor. There was really only one explanation. “Looks like Dickhead stopped by?”

Damian had a disgusted look on his face as he sidestepped the heap of fluffy fabric. “He’s been known to do so.”

“Geesh, pick it up Damian! Don’t leave it for Alfred!” Stomping over, Jason collected the offending cloth and tossed it in the hamper nearby. “Shit, you’re both spoiled, you know that?”

“I have better uses for my time.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that took such a long time.”

“I put my towels where they belong. I see no point in fixing Richard’s mistakes.”

Jason was showered, dressed and unlocking the computer when Damian came out. The teen frowned a him, stuck his nose in the air, and declared: “I’m going to get something to eat.”

Swiveling around in the computer chair, the twenty-year-old quirked an eyebrow. “You sound pretty angry about that.”

“You may join me, if you must.”

Jason watched the smaller figure march to the elevator, and cracked a grin. Apparently he hadn’t overstayed his welcome of shadowing the little bird. “Hold up, I’m coming.” 

The house was quiet and low lit, signaling that everyone was probably asleep. The two brothers dug around the pantry and cabinets, taking what they wanted. Damian apparently had an agreement with Alfred, because there was a bowl with his name in the fridge and a plate on the counter. Pumpkin muffins and fresh cut fruit. 

“You want some nutmeg to go with that?” 

“Sometimes you remind me of Richard when you speak,” Damian bit back, and *that* shut Jason up. 

They ate and Damian started a conversation regarding Jon Kent and the Teen Titans. Jason didn’t have much to add; when he’d been Robin, his role with same age superheroes had been minuscule. It was somewhat strange that Damian had such a large presence in the masked community since he could be hard to get along with at times. _‘No doubt, being the biological son of the Bat has something to do with that,’_ he thought through a mouthful of milk and granola.

“Have you ever … sampled an excess amount of nutmeg?”

Jason about choked, milk bubbling past his lips and dribbling down his chin. He quickly used the back of his hand to wipe it away before swallowing and laughing. “Uh, my parents didn’t really keep spices around.”

“That was not what I asked.”

“Yeah, I realize that. Why are you asking? You thinking about adding a tablespoon to your juice?”

Damian shook his head in annoyance, wiping his hands on a napkin. “I hear Dick.”

Jason had heard the weighted footfalls as well. He really wasn’t surprised, the towel in the locker room had been fairly damp. Dick probably had gotten home a short while before them. Taking another bite, Jason debated getting up and leaving before his elder brother started talking. 

Damian seemed to have the same idea. He was in the middle of brining his dishes to the sink when the door swung open and Dick entered.

“Oh, wow. Heya Jays.”

“Thanks for the wet towel on the locker room floor,” was Jason’s reply.

“Wasn’t my towel.”

“Why even lie about it, Dick?”

“Ok, so it was my towel. Great detective work and you’re very welcome.” 

God. Jason hated Dick sometimes. He lifted his bowl to his lips and drained the rest of the milk while Damian and Dick conversed. He washed up his dishes, dried them, and returned both from whence they came. Then, glancing at his watch, saw it was 5:25, and decided he was staying here for the night. “I’m going to bed. Night.”

Damian ignored him.

“I was planning on a shower in the morning. Should I leave my wet towel in front of your door, or Is there somewhere else you’d like it?”

“Fuck you too, Dick.”

 

Chirp. Wait. Chirp. Wait. Chirp. Wait. Chip. Wait. Chirp.

Jason awoke, sitting straight up, and angrier than he’d thought possible. Birds. Fucking singing birds! Leaping out of bed, he ran over to the window and banged on it hard enough to rattle the glass. “FLY AWAY, MOTHERFUCKERS!” Naturally afraid, the birds took flight, and Jason heaved a sigh of relief.

God. He should have dug through the medical supplies last night for earplugs. Wayne Manor always had birds singing, what with all the trees and bird feeders around and about. It was something that always irritated Jason, even as a child; that goddamned, non-stop: chirp, chirp, chirp.

Give him sirens, shouting, trains rumbling and loud music any day of the week, just not song birds.

He glanced at his phone as he crawled back under the covers. 

6:15 AM.

He’d only been asleep forty minutes? Stupid birds trying to mate on this fucking horrible morning! _‘Maybe the jackasses’ll get an STD and…’_ He ‘lights out’ almost instantly until:

Chirp. Wait. Chirp. Wait. Chirp. Wait. Chip. Wait. Chirp.

“That does it!” Jason threw off his covers and bounded out of his bedroom. He didn’t care if he was only in his boxers, people would just have to deal with it. He skipped steps and skidded into the kitchen. He was slightly alarmed to find Bruce and Selina chatting with Alfred, but quickly focused back on the task at hand.

“Master Jason!” The butler said, no doubt ashamed. “What on Earth--.”

Jason grabbed two carving knives, ignoring the ongoing questions.

“—makes you think this attire is respectable?!”

“Jason?” Bruce appeared confused, while Selina just smiled.

He was out of the kitchen and running back upstairs. He made it to his room and the deplorable happy chirping, then flung up his window, once again causing the birds to take wing. “NEXT TIME YOU COME AROUND, BASTARDS, I’LL USE THESE! Stay the FUCK away!” He stared out the window, at the branch where they had been and narrowed his eyes. “You’ll be back. Of course you will, because you CAN’T TAKE A FUCKING HINT!”

“Jason?” Dick’s voice came from behind, and the twenty-year-old turned towards it, frowning deeply. The Romani was in pajama pants and a tee, rubbing his eyes like he’d just woken up. 

“What?!”

“You woke me up, what’s going on?”

“Don’t blame me, blame the fuckin’ birds!”

He could hear someone coming up the stairs, as did Dick who stepped backwards a few steps to look. “Whuh-oh, Bruce is coming and he looks annoyed, Jays.”

God, Jason was tired. He blinked at his older brother and then padded to the bed and flopped down, knives still in hand.

“Hey, Bruce!” Dick said brightly as his guardian gently pushed him aside and entered. 

“What the hell is going on?”

“Something about birds,” Dick informed.

“Birds?”

As if on cue, the chirping started again. Jason bolted up, only to have Bruce grab his wrist and take both of the knives. “We have earplugs, Jason. Just go down and get some.”

“What’s going on in here?” Now Damian had joined the small crowd.

Once again, Dick happily filled in the blanks. “Jay’s trying to kill some birds. Probably ‘cause they’re happy and he’s not.”

Damian was quiet for a spell, sizing Jason up, and then offered the slightest upturn of his lip. “Did you get into the nutmeg, Todd?”

END

1\. I was bored and hating on some birds that wake me every morning. Sorry, I didn’t take time on this.  
2\. Don’t get high with nutmeg. It’s stupid.  
3\. I need to stop writing fictions about mind altering substances.

**Author's Note:**

> Love!


End file.
